“Let us set aside these concerns for now. I would like to get to know thiswifeof yours. My Rowena will be overjoyed that you have taken a wife. She worried over you.”
“Lady Rowena is very special to me as well.” He smiled with relief that he would not be leaving his bride immediately. “I would like you to get to know Brighit as well.”
They walked without talking until they were right outside the Great Hall, the doors stood open. Brighit was inside and surrounded by the men of her clan. The smile she bestowed on each of them bristled Peter’s pride but John grabbed his arm before he could approach her.
“Wait. No doubt she is only happy to be with someone from home.”
Peter’s eyes widened. “You know about them, too?”
“Mort loves to talk.”
“A truer statement I’ve never heard.”
“He has mastered the ability to get information from his seemingly idle chatter.”
They paused and watched the exchange. Brighit’s coloring spoke volumes about her spirited responses.
“Do you fear she may return with them?”
Peter’s heart leapt in his chest. “No! She would never—” he turned back toward her. “I do not believe she would want to leave me.”
“Peter.” John’s tone was suddenly serious. “I do have news regarding Jeanette.”
Peter flinched inside. He hadn’t thought of her in days. Guilt swept over him and he looked away.
“It won’t be easy to hear what I have to tell you.”
Peter shoved down the mix of emotions swamping him. Guilt. Fear. Happiness. “Tell me.”
“Jeanette’s brother was not truthful with you.”
It was worse than he’d feared.
“She died more recently than he professed to you.”
Confusion added to the mix churning in the pit of his stomach. “What are you saying? I have been away since the fall. How...”
John searched his features. Reality ran over him like a stampede of horses. “It wasn’t my child she carried. She had been with another?”
“Peter, she had been with many others.”
The urge to punch his best friend in the mouth was overpowering. “Why demean her with such words?”
John grabbed on to his clenched fist. “So that you could allow yourself to grieve over the loss of your lover without the guilt of believing your murdered her. She did not carry your child. She died delivering another’s child.”
Betrayal was hard to swallow. In all the time he’d spent separated from Jeanette, he’d never considered coupling with another. Peter and John were alike in that way. They would prefer to abstain than be rutting like pigs. John, not even knowing who his sire was, convinced him to always see the act resulting in a possible birth. He could never do that to his child. Many of the soldiers thought it their right to take from the women they came across even if they were unwilling. Regardless of the outcome.
It was a difficult choice to make. Battle often left Peter with a raging need for release. Sometimes release came by his own hand but it wasn’t satisfying. It was merely to lessen the tension. When he matured, he learned better ways than physical manipulation to overcome his roaring desires. He chose to be loyal to Jeanette alone.
“There never were any promises between us.” Peter could see her face before him. “I lusted after her and she took me into her bed. She made herself available whenever I returned to court. I suppose I knew deep inside that she would find another in my absence.”
Peter rubbed his thumb along his bottom lip. Jeanette had not died because he loved her. Cursed? Perhaps he was not. Hope sparked inside and he felt like the night watchmen just as the promise of dawn spread light across the horizon. Dare he believe the darkness in him was lifting?
“Do you remember my sire?” He glanced at John. Peter’s father had been a powerful leader for King William when he was still a duke, always able to subdue the enemy.
“He was a great warrior. I served him as squire for a short time and know he was a hard man,” John said.
Peter’s derisive snort was met with a slow nod from John. “He was a cruel bastard.”
